Essay On The Autobiography Of A Poisonous Tree

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Essay On The Autobiography Of A Poisonous Tree

Green fruits grow on me. I stand by the side of the road of a village. I am a fruit tree. The fruits that are grown on me appear like raw mangos. However, since long I have noticed that a group of three villagers spend their day hiding behind a big boulder watching me. I am astonished to see their behaviour.

One day I heard one of them asking the other: “Is there any good news yet?” The other replied, “Keep quiet. A man is eating the fruits, wait for the good news.” The third man said, “It seems that he is a rich person and today we shall have a good time.” Just then, I saw that the man who ate my fruit picked his bag and started walking. Soon he began vomiting, fell down on the ground and died. I felt very sad that after eating my fruits the man died.

Suddenly I saw those three men happily rushing towards the man. They were happy to see him dead. They opened his bag and saw what was in it. They took gold ornaments and money from the bag and flew away from the spot.

After a month, a group of travellers saw fruits on me. As they were hungry, they plucked some of my fruits and sat under my shade. Soon they started eating my fruits. Once again, those crooks were watching them from a distance. Just then, a caravan came down the road. The head of the caravan got down his cart and ran to the men who were sitting under me. The head shouted, “Hey! Stop at once as these fruits are poisonous.” The travellers cried loudly and said that they will die soon. The head of the caravan was a helpful man. He gave then some medicine so that they would vomit out my poisonous fruits. Soon they vomited and their lives were saved. I could see disappointment on the faces of those three rogues..

The three men came out of their hidden place and went to the spot to see what was happening. I thought that the crooks would be caught. One of the travellers asked the caravan’s head that how did he know that my fruits were poisonous. The head answered that he had never seen the villagers or their children ever plucking my fruits to eat, and so he assumed that the fruits I bared were poisonous. In a nervous tone, even the three men agreed that the fruits on me were poisonous.

In a few minutes, my existence is going to be ended because the caravan’s head has asked the villagers to help him and his men to cut me down in order to stop more deaths in future. Even the three men have agreed to help them so that no one can doubt them for their bad doings.

Essay On The Autobiography Of A Poisonous Tree


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